Louisa Heaton

His Perfect Bride?


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       Olly gaped open-mouthed at the new locum GP.

      This is not what I expected.

      She was petite—elfin, almost—with a graceful, slim but womanly figure which he couldn’t help but notice due to her clothing. Or what there was of it. Her dark, almost black hair was cut short at the back, but at the front it was long and multicoloured—cyan-blue, purple and pink streaks fell across her face. Her arms were layered with bangles and she had a red jewel in her belly button. She twirled and swirled and sashayed as she led the class in ‘undulation one’.

      ‘All right, Olly?’ his dad asked, staring at his son in amusement.

      How can this woman be a GP? She doesn’t look like one.

      But what was a GP supposed to look like? There was a shimmery wrap around her waist, tightly sheathing her perfectly curved bottom, and it tinkled and glimmered as she moved. Then, as she pointed her tiny feet, he noticed tattoos and nail polish and toe-rings, before his eyes rose back up to her face to see large brown eyes, rosy cheeks and a cheeky smile.

      Patrick leaned in closer to his son to whisper in his ear. ‘Close your mouth. You look like a hungry hippo.’

      Olly did as he was told and swallowed hard.

       Dear Reader,

      I have to admit to you that there are three pet rats in my house. Yes—three. Blaze, Finlay and Harper are three brothers that I rescued, and one day, whilst they were out of their cage, playing on my shoulder, I wondered if there had ever been a Mills & Boon® heroine with pet rats who also needed rescuing herself?

      That single question inspired this story! My heroine, Lula, came instantly—in all her glory—and Olly, my hero, quickly followed. I knew that these two, together, would create a love story that we all could fall in love with.

      I absolutely adore their story and hope you do too.

      Love

      Louisa xx

      LOUISA HEATON first started writing romance at school, and would take her stories in to show her friends, scrawled in a big red binder, with plenty of crossing out. She dreamt of romance herself, and after knowing her husband-to-be for only three weeks shocked her parents by accepting his marriage proposal. After four children—including a set of twins—and fifteen years of trying to get published, she finally received ‘The Call’! Now she lives on Hayling Island, and when she’s not busy as a First Responder creates her stories wandering along the wonderful Hampshire coastline with her two dogs, muttering to herself and scaring the locals.

      Visit Louisa on twitter @louisaheaton, on Facebook www.facebook.com/Louisaheatonauthor or on her website: www.louisaheaton.com

      His Perfect Bride?

      Louisa Heaton

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Excerpt

      Dear Reader

       About the Author

       Title Page

       Dedication

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       EPILOGUE

       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      DR OLIVER JAMES was just packing up for the day when his father, Patrick, put his head round the door.

      ‘Got a minute?’

      Olly looked up, his bright blue eyes curious. ‘Yeah, sure. What’s up?’

      His father was the senior GP at their practice in the village of Atlee Wold, although not for long. He was taking early retirement, and he’d hired a locum to fill his space until a more permanent doctor could be found.

      ‘That new locum I told you about. She’s here. I thought I’d introduce you.’

      Right. The new locum. It was a day he was dreading—his father stepping down and away from the practice—and the arrival of a locum brought that day another step closer.

      And he was exhausted. It had been a long, cold day. With all the snow outside, it had taken a long time for his consulting room to warm up and he’d spent his time in between seeing patients sipping hot tea and leaning against the ancient radiators. What he really wanted, more than anything else, was to go home and take a long, hot shower and maybe not emerge until he could summon up the energy to get dry and fall into bed. Perhaps with a mug of cocoa?

      But even a shower wasn’t on the night’s agenda, because it was his turn to be on call. Which meant a night trying to sleep fully dressed on his bed, ready to pull his shoes on if his pager sounded. Oh, and a coat, of course, with a scarf and a woolly hat and gloves. And hoping to hell that his old four-wheel drive started up.

      ‘Is she here? I didn’t know she was coming today?’

      ‘Well, she’s not here, exactly. She’s at the village hall, running a class.’

      Olly raised